


Something Old

by Thette



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crack, F/M, Pregnancy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thette/pseuds/Thette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose get married. The Master is invited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Old

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [False Alarms](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/35108) by Dave7. 



> This grew out of a discussion of [Dave7](http://dave7.livejournal.com/)'s [False Alarms](http://community.livejournal.com/teadis/46864.html) and is a companion piece to that fic, describing the Doctor marrying a very pregnant Rose and dancing to the fire alarm.
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://rosemaryfic.livejournal.com/5806.html) March 28th, 2009.

  
It was well known that the Doctor was not the most socially astute person. One could even dare to call him rude in his worst moments. Rose read his short contribution to their guest list. They had agreed to make it a small affair, family and close friends only. Not because the Vitex heiress needed to pinch pennies for her wedding, but to keep nosy journalists away.  
  
"Brigadier Sir Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart," she read. "Who's the guy with the mouthful of names?"  
  
"Old friend. Really old friend, from the time I worked for UNIT. Many faces ago."  
  
"Sarah Jane! And the Face of Boe! Yes, I want them to be there with us. But wouldn't meeting the ol' Face disturb the fabric of space and time?"  
  
The Doctor looked dejected. "Didn't think of that. He did say we've met three times. Bugger. Oh, I know! I'll invite Jack instead."  
  
"Only if we both get to dance with him." She couldn't see the connection between the immortal man and the face in the jar, but the Doctor seemed quite happy to exchange them.  
  
"And last, the Master."  
  
"Yup."  
  
"The other Time Lord."  
  
"That's him."  
  
"Your eternal enemy, the guy who tortured you and your friends, butchered your TARDIS and always comes up with new elaborate ways of killing you?"  
  
"The same," he said, as if she was the slow one.  
  
"And you want him at our wedding?!"  
  
"You're bringing Jackie," he muttered. "It's complicated," he said out loud. "We go way back, all the way to the Time Academy, and it's not like he's tried to kill me since his last regeneration. I'm disappointed. He should have tried at least once by now. He killed me once by throwing me off a radio telescope, you know. Do you think he's lost interest in me?"  
  
Rose sighed. Sometimes, he could be just as naïve as she had been during those first few months with him. "Nobody else you can think of?"  
  
"Not really, no." She resolutely added both Donna and Martha to her significantly longer guest list. Both the rude redhead and the brave doctor Jones had made very good impressions on her during the few days she had spent in the world where she was born. He only picked the best, she thought, and wiggled her fingers in his direction. He took her hand, and smiled that smile again, the smile she'd never tire of seeing.  
  
***  
  
He sauntered in, slightly more than fashionably late, wearing a new face and black tie. The boyish good looks turned the heads of every young woman on the bride's side. Even, oh joy and bloody triumph, Martha Jones gave him appreciating looks. He took a seat next to the immortal Captain, and shuddered with a delightful pleasure at the wrongness of him.  
  
"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack said with that grin of his and stretched out his hand in welcome. "Nice ass. Save a dance for me?"  
  
"Emil Keller," the Master said, using an old pseudonym. The handshake was too intimate, but not inappropriate enough to protest. "Nice to meet you." He wondered how far he could string the incurable slutboy along, and how he could make the most out of the opprotunity to hurt him just a little. Who was he kidding? Hurt him as much as possible, maybe even kill him once or twice. The Master knew what Jack looks like in chains, and it shouldn't be impossible to arrange that afterwards. But no killing during the wedding, that'd be so crass.  
  
He looked around at the other guests. Ah, the Brigadier, old and worn. Not much left of the trigger-happy idiot from yesteryear, the man whose brilliant strategy for dealing with every alien threat could be described at "let's shoot at it for a bit". And Sarah Jane, who had aged well. Wouldn't it be a pleasure to take that away from her? Keep her until she's old and wrinkled, and let her back the day after he took her. He knew how to make time pass very slowly for his prisoners. Martha Jones seemed to have recovered far too quickly. He wondered what a little whisper in her ear, something about her sister, would do to her? Oh, he should ask her to dance! That would be delightful! Just a touch of rowing hands, and then the whisper.  
  
Mendelssohn's wedding march started playing, and a bald man escorted a very pregnant blonde down the aisle. "Not that I ever expected him to marry, but a shotgun wedding," the Master whispered. "How the mighty have fallen..."  
  
"Yeah, well, if you knew Jackie Tyler, you'd understand," Jack whispered back. "She's got a mean slap."  
  
The thought of the Doctor being slapped by his mother-in-law-to-be made both his hearts rush. The Master spent the first half of the officiant's speech about the virtues of marriage, blah, blah, chuckling inside. But not even the Doctor's red cheeks could keep him entertained for ever. He turned to Jack for snark. "Is there a pool on how long until he runs? My bet would be on less than two years. Running's the only thing he's good for, after all."  
  
"Never was a betting man," Jack replies.  
  
  
  
As the ridiculously happy couple started their walk towards the church doors, the Master couldn't contain his bitterness anymore. "He's just inviting me to gloat. I don't think he even cares about me anymore. All the things we've done, all our history, just thrown away for a human woman barely past puberty." He hadn't planned on coming out as an alien in front of Jack. The heavy hand on his shoulder silenced him.  
  
"Look here, Master Keller," Jack said with a tone of voice mostly used for trying to reason with toddlers just before a tantrum, "I don't know what in the world possessed him to invite you, but I'm not going to let you destroy the wedding of the two people I love the most." The hand on his shoulder squeezed him to just this side of pain. "You are going to behave, and if I see you even looking in the general direction of Martha, I'm going to hold you still while she regenerates you. Twice."  
  
"How did you know?" And how long had he known?  
  
"The double pulse is rather telling, don't you think?" The handshake, then. All this posturing for nothing. "The Doctor may have forgiven you, but don't assume that I have." The Master shook himself free from Jack's grip, and followed the small throng of guests to the reception hall. Bloody meddling humans.  
  
With the perfectly good plan to wreck the Doctor's friends in ruins, he felt the need to resort to pettiness. Say, would that happen to be a fire alarm? And conveniently, in his pocket, a lighter?  
The last two Time Lords in existence, the pair who should conquer the stars and build a new glorious eternal empire, and one had chosen to bog himself down in domestics. Wasn't it suitable that the other one chose petty vandalism? He tried to drown out the rejection in the wailing alarms and the heavy rain from the sprinklers.


End file.
